One Hundred Years
Now, Batman, Prophet Batman, a hundred years ago,
He looked upon this land and found it good.
"'Tis the place to build a village," bold Batman said, and so
They straight began - or so I've understood
To fling rude huts together by the swamp and by the stream,
To make beginning here and then for Batman's daring dream.
But Batman, Prophet Batman, was quite a modest cove;
His vision sought no far and fabled goals.
A village he could picture here; but no vast treasure trove
A mighty city of a million souls
A miracle arising by the swamp and by the stream
In the hundred years that followed on one pioneering dream.
Now I, far lesser prophet, stand here to view the scene
Tall spire, proud dome athwart a sunny sky,
This far-flung city basking by many a garden green
Yet hopelessly I fail to prophesy.
While earth holds threat and promise both, and high hope walks with dread,
Then who may claim the vision of one hundred years ahead?
Shall yet a greater miracle arise beside the stream,
When wiser plans of wiser men prevail
Some shining City of Content beyond man's boldest bream?
Or must a world's mad frenzy end the tale,
And, in a hundred years from now, another village rise
To shield indomitable man ‘neath ruin-fretted skies?
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Bruce Wayne is Batman. He became Batman the instant his parents were murdered. Batman needs Bruce, however hollow that identity feels to him from time to time. Bruce keeps Batman human.
quote by Kevin Conroy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gotham City (with english version)
Gotham City
Mas é preciso ser batman em gotham city,
É preciso ler gibi antigo e desfolhado,
Sendo morcego, não ser vampiro, ser beat,
Besouro caindo nos ouvidos deflorados.
Mas é preciso ser batman em gotham city,
Roncando o motor turbinado do bat-carro,
Gostar de Liszt, saber tudo e tudo cite!
Tomar copos de leite e não fumar cigarro!
Sendo o batman enfrento o coringa e o pingouin,
A sensual mulher gato que me arranha as pernas
E o peito e declara estranha paixão por mim!
Ter sempre ao meu lado um Robbin longe a tavernas;
É preciso ser batman em gothan city enfim,
Pra a luta ao som do rock, morar em caverna!
Gotham City
But is crave to be batman in gotham city,
Is crave to read old and defoliate comics,
Being bat, not to be vampire, being beat,
Beetle falling in the deflorated ears.
But is crave to be batman in gotham city,
Snoring the turbining motor of the bat-car,
To like Liszt, to know everything and everything cite!
To take milk cups and not to smoke cigarette!
Being batman I face coringa and pingouin,
the sensual woman cat that scratches me legs
and the chest and declares stranger passion for me!
To always have to my side a Robbin far the taverns;
She is crave to be batman in gothan city at last,
For the fight to the sound of the rock, to live in cave!
poem by Jayro Luna
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Batman And Catwoman
My glass is half-full and yours is half-empty,
But nature had put us together on this scale of love;
And like 'Batman and Catwoman',
We need to show to others how true love feels.
Take a catwalk and come to me with your love,
Down the stream where the water flows;
City-life is killing people like,
The female body lying next to me;
For i've only three days to prepare for your love.
Yahweh dried up the waters of the Red Sea and,
They passed through to the other side of the land;
So like the 'Batman and Catwoman';
Do give me the feelings of love tonight.
She got off the donkey and went to the spring of water,
But i will sleep with you like a virgin tonight;
Because the mosquitoes do not know my name and,
You will still remember the day that you stood neked before me.
'Batman and Catwoman',
Your eyes have seen me and have met my love;
And your legs do walk to my house always,
Because i am the one that your haert needs.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Batman Combats Oscar Wilde
“Are you serious? ” Frederick asked.
“Yes, Oscar Wilde, the writer”, George Batman said. “We had a conversation in the park.”
“Oh”, said Frederick. “Is he not dead? ”
“We had a conversation in the park”, Batman said.
“I see”, said Frederick.
“You remember that in The Picture of Dorian Gray Wilde argues that books cannot be moral or immoral, only well-written or badly written”, Batman commented.
“So? ”
“Well, I disagreed.”
“And why is that? ” Frederick inquired.
“Look. Wilde confuses content with style. A book with a moral message can either fail or excel in its stylistic presentation, and so can a book with immoral content.”
“I see”, said Frederick. “So what happened? ”
“Nothing special”, Batman said. “We continued to argue. I told Oscar that I am not impressed with some of his witty dictums.”
“Oh”, Frederick said. “What did Wilde say? ”
“He wanted to hear examples”, Batman said.
“Did you give him? ”
“Yes, of course. I started with the ‘The truth is rarely pure, and never simple’, from The Importance of Being Earnest.”
“What is wrong with that? ” Frederick asked.
“I told Wilde that his purified statement is self-contradictory because it is so simple that it cannot be true”.
“I see”, Frederick said. “What else? ”
“Well”, said Batman, “I also told him that I disagreed with the aphorism that ‘Women are meant to be loved, not to be understood’. This is a derogatory and false comment on the psychology of women, belittling female intelligence and dignity. Besides, not only that men also want to be loved, but love and understanding can be overlapping as well.”
“What did Wilde say? ”
“I don’t know. He is dead”.
poem by Paul Hartal
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My book is very wild. But you know during the period of BATMAN, that there were thousands of Batman and Robin costumes sold and these weren't just for kids.
Batman
He's Batman but his true identity is Bruce Wayne.
Some people think he's a hero while others think he's insane.
He protects Gotham City from people who are a disgrace.
He protects them from the Joker, the Penguin and even from Two-Face.
The Riddler just struck and Batman has to fight.
He's the Caped Crusader and he's the Dark Knight.
poem by Randy Johnson
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The Dark Knight Rises
When Gotham needs its hero back,
He's waiting in the wings,
The Dark Knight rises dressed in black
To bring all that he brings...
Back in the game, opponents fall,
He conquers one-by-one,
Such that for Gotham he gives all,
Until the battle's done...
The Batman's played the game before,
Surviving day-by-day,
To scale the heights, even the score,
His martial arts display...
He bides his time, then strikes so fast,
Somehow to turn the tide,
Such that for Gotham danger's past
And peace can then abide...
He sacrifices life and limb,
In fact, his very soul,
In hopes that though the future's grim,
He strives yet gains control...
Beware if in his way you stand,
He knows what he must do,
Such that for Gotham things are planned
So Batman captures you!
One man can make a difference, friends,
One hero standing tall,
One champion who comprehends,
Defending great and small...
When Batman's legend comes to mind,
He holds his head up high,
Such that new courage he will find
Before his last goodbye...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Oh prophet!
Oh prophet! Oh prophet! get up and flee
The dormant city
Is vicious, merciless without joviality or glee
Oh prophet! Oh prophet get up and run
The dreadful city before the rising sun
The gentle night welcomes with cover and calm
Oh prophet! oh prophet get up and haste your retreat
The night city drums thunder and beat
A place so foul, no man is liberated or free in solitary streets
Oh prophet! oh prophet get up and hide
This city is filled with bigotry and shameful pride
The night is pure with divinity and delight
Oh Prophet! oh Prophet wake up and rise
Large treasure rapture city eyes
Their sins are blotted in shape and size
Oh prophet! oh prophet take a warning heed
Tomorrow God's wrath will over the city take lead
And with fury and fire burns her towers and her peaks
Copy Rights 2010
All rights reserved
Goodbat Nightman
God bless all policemen
and fighters of crime,
May thieves go to jail
for a very long time.
They've had a hard day
helping clean up the town,
Now they hang from the mantelpiece
both upside down.
A glass of warm blood
and then straight up the stairs,
Batman and Robin
are saying their prayers.
* * *
They've locked all the doors
and they've put out the bat,
Put on their batjamas
(They like doing that)
They've filled their batwater-bottles
made their batbeds,
With two springy battresses
for sleepy batheads.
They're closing red eyes
and they're counting black sheep,
Batman and Robin
are falling asleep.
poem by Roger McGough
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At Lulworth Cove a Century Back
Had I but lived a hundred years ago
I might have gone, as I have gone this year,
By Warmwell Cross on to a Cove I know,
And Time have placed his finger on me there:
"You see that man?" -- I might have looked, and said,
"O yes: I see him. One that boat has brought
Which dropped down Channel round Saint Alban's Head.
So commonplace a youth calls not my thought."
"You see that man?" -- "Why yes; I told you; yes:
Of an idling town-sort; thin; hair brown in hue;
And as the evening light scants less and less
He looks up at a star, as many do."
"You see that man?" -- "Nay, leave me!" then I plead,
"I have fifteen miles to vamp across the lea,
And it grows dark, and I am weary-kneed:
I have said the third time; yes, that man I see!"
"Good. That man goes to Rome -- to death, despair;
And no one notes him now but you and I:
A hundred years, and the world will follow him there,
And bend with reverence where his ashes lie."
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Batman
i love the way you smile
your eyes are beautiful
your dark and mysterious
you see me as a person im not
your my best friend in the entire world
you helped me when i need someone
you stayed beside my side and pick me up through that dark hole i was falling through
im glad your happy with her
i want you to be happy
with whatever discion you make
i dont regret kissing you
i dont regret annything
i was happy
i havent been happy like that in a long time
batman, i love you
no one or anything will change that
batman
i love you
poem by Jalisa Ann Curtin
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Every peak crumbles
Four hundred million years ago,
Three hundred million years ago,
Two hundred million years ago,
And seventy million years ago,
The world had witnessed
In succession,
Major calamities of the major species,
The Dinosaur being the last victim.
Next, in midway, are we, the Homo sapiens?
30.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Passing The Inkblot Test
a butterfly is a butterfly
is a butterfly
and batman is batman
and the clown is nothing but a clown
do not make the bat fly
do not let the clown splash in melting butter
and just be the man that you are
stay there do not float in air
it is just an ink that blots in its reflection
it is just a piece of paper on your hand
it is just stationery
do not give movements where movements are not there
always remember newton
an object at rest will always be at rest
and an object in motion will always be in motion
unless acted upon by an unequal and opposite force.
stay calm, now take your glass of water and then
swallow your medicine.
how can you ever faill this test again?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I am planning a one-man art show of original Batman oil paintings that I will show in New York City.
I created Batman about 10 years before Ian Fleming created James Bond.
Midnight
They put away the DDT now
But gave metal to the sea
A hundred years can't wait
A hundred years can't wait another day
The only eagle, only tree
Within a desert that was green
A hundred years can't wait
A hundred years can't wait another day
Midnight
Draws ever near
Daylight
Is fading so fast
It's so close to midnight
Midnight
The melting ice will fuel the sea
By burning gold from ancient tree
A hundred years can't wait
A hundred years can't wait another day
This is progress, this is sin
Injecting poison in her skin
A hundred years can't wait
A hundred years can't wait another day
Midnight
Draws ever near
Daylight
Is fading so fast
It's so close to midnight
Midnight
song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brave New World
One spoke: "Come, let us gaily go
With laughter, love and lust,
Since in a century or so
We'll all be boneyard dust.
When unborn shadows hold the screen,
(Our betters, I'll allow)
'Twill be as if we'd never been,
A hundred years from now.
When we have played life's lively game
Right royally we'll rot,
And not a soul will care a damn
The why or how we fought;
To grub for gold or grab for fame
Or raise a holy row,
It will be all the bloody same
A hundred years from now."
Said I: "Look! I have built a tower
Upon you lonely hill,
Designed to be a daughter's dower,
Yet when my heart is still,
The stone I set with horny hand
And salty sweat of brow,
A record of my strength will sand
A hundred years from now.
"There's nothing lost and nothing vain
In all this world so wide;
The ocean hoards each drop of rain
To swell its sweeping tide;
The desert seeks each grain of sand
It's empire to endow,
And we a bright brave world have planned
A hundred years from now.
And all we are and all we do
Will bring that world to be;
Our strain and pain let us not rue,
Though other eyes shall see;
For other hearts will bravely beat
And lips will sing of how
We strove to make life sane and sweet
A hundred years from now.
poem by Robert William Service
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One Hundred And Rising
J.P. Maunick)
Out in the heat little child
On the streets runnin' wild
Barely ten, got a gun
So now he thinks that he's a man
Yes he does
Teenage girl out to steal
'Cos her baby is in need of a meal
Tryin' to cope as best she can
In the high sunshine, low on hope
Well, there it is summer in the city
Tryin' to make sense of a world gone crazy
Chorus:
(Du du du du du du)
One hundred and risin'
(Du du du du du du)
So the tale is told
(Du du du du du du)
One hundred and risin'
(Du du du du du du)
Old man sitting in the shade
Won't take part in the charade
He may be old, but he ain't a foo
l He has seen how dreams are bought and sold
On every corner, a steady stream
To buy a thrill, a piper's dream
While the heat takes its toll
It's just another day on a city street
You got to do the best you can to get by
In the high sunshine
Chorus x 3
Summer madness will unfold
Tryin' to make sense of a world gone crazy
Repeat (Fade
song performed by by Incognito
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you ever want to get the facts straight about me or the Batman, please write to the original source, myself, for the truth, instead of second guessing.
As Old George Said
Said old George Jones: 'All in a hundred years.
'Tis little time enough, and well may make
This youthful country proud among its peers
Of progress wooed and won for progress sake.
A splendid city shining by the sea
And all that count of wealth and worth she owns
Speaks well enough for our first century,'
Said old George Jones.
''Tis with a country much as 'tis with men:
The fevered morn o' life goes all for gain -
For all the things gain signifies; an' then,
We pause to con life's lesson o'er again
And find, if be that wisdom comes with years,
That gettin', gainin', holdin', scarce atones
Nor pays for all man's toil an' sweat and tears,'
Said old George Jones.
'Not with the golden profit won thro' trade,
Not with the tawdry treasure that we wrest
From this scarred earth, nor things men's hands have made
Comes any answer to man's age-long quest.
Not at the gates of such material goals
Nor pedigreed cities builded high with stones
Lies ought to serve or satisfy men's souls,'
Said old George Jones.
Said old George Jones, 'This is an old man's pray'r:
That gainin' shall not ever wholly serve
This land o' mine when I drift otherwhere
To seek what share o' peace I may deserve;
But that the treasure of the one true worth
Shall gleam at last above my whitening bones
For wiser mortals of a wiser earth,'
Said old George Jones.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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